


The Cliffs of Delphi: Curiosity

by GreyLiliy



Series: The Cliffs Of Delphi [5]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Victorian, Dubious Consent, M/M, Sexual Content, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-08
Updated: 2014-04-08
Packaged: 2018-01-18 14:27:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1431862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreyLiliy/pseuds/GreyLiliy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fresh from a hunt, Tarn spots Pharma out late at night. He decides to have a bit of fun with his little doctor. Vos disapproves.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Cliffs of Delphi: Curiosity

**Author's Note:**

> Asked for random prompts on Tumblr for this AU, and I'm writing fics loosely based on them. This is the first of the set~ :D

Vos skipped down the alley, his heart pounding in delight and a smile on his face that could have lit the street lamps with how brightly it was shining.

Comparatively speaking.

In reality, Vos wore his ever present frown, kept his back straight, and held Tarn’s bag of tools with the utmost care a servant of his status should. To the untrained eye, he looked like he always did. To those that knew him, they recognized the tiny twitch of his lip and the lightness of his step for what it was: Pure joy.

Nothing made Vos happier than a hunt without those two bumbling idiots Tesarus and Helex. It wasn’t that he doubted their loyalty or service to Master Tarn, but their style was unrefined and sloppy. And Vos always got stuck cleaning up after them when they left a trail of intestines along the walls when the idea was cleanliness and to be untraceable.

Working alone with Tarn was much neater, and Vos always got his turn in the kill.

Vos squeezed the satchel of tools a bit tighter, and glanced at the larger man walking next to him. His mask on, and his black overcoat a fierce sight. Tarn too, had a strong edge to his steps that spoke of pride in a successful kill. Together they would meet up with the other two at the carriage, and head home to unwind. Vos would prepare Tarn’s bath, and tea would follow: The perfect evening.

Absolutely nothing was going to ruin Vos’ night.

Tarn stopped, masked face looking down the dark alleyway toward the main street. His shoulders straightened up, and Vos heard a tiny chuckle leave his mouth as the master said, “Well, look who it is.”

Vos followed Tarn’s gaze, and his frown visibly deepened. Pharma stood at the end of the alley, digging through a coat pocket. Vos checked his watch, already knowing the time, and read the two hands indicating it was one twenty-three in the morning. Vos snapped the watch shut as Tarn asked the question on his mind:

"What is our little doctor doing up and about at this hour?" Tarn pulled on his gloves, stretching his fingers out. He rolled his shoulders, and Vos could picture the grin that was stretching under his mask. "I think I should find out. You’re free to head home, Vos."

"Sir?" Vos asked, clutching the satchel. "Is that wise?"

"It’s not like he doesn’t know it’s me," Tarn said. He slapped Vos on the back and and laughed. "I’m going to have a bit of fun. You go on ahead."

"Sir," Vos repeated, a hint of emotion slipping into the monotone of his voice. "I must protest. This is a risk not worth taking. What if someone were to see you?"

"No one’s around," Tarn repeated, too cheerful for his own good. Vos ground the back of his teeth together. Tarn hummed, "And what if some other ill reputable character were to find him all alone at this hour? How would I sleep at night?"

"Master—"

"Go home, Vos," Tarn said, cutting off his servant’s protest. "I’ll see you tomorrow."

Meaning Tarn was planning to stay the night at the Doctor’s. Pharma started to walk down the street, and Tarn’s eyes followed him as he passed the alley. He was completely fixated, and yet again Vos wondered if Pharma had bewitched him somehow. Nothing he could do about it at the moment, however. His protests weren’t worth that much to his dear master.

Vos snarled out a, “Yes, sir.”

Tarn pat Vos once on the shoulder, before sneaking down the alley after his addiction. Vos stood there, fingers gripping so tightly to the satchel in his hand that he indented the leather with his nails. The servant breathed out slowly and recalled his orders: _Go home_.

Like hell.

Vos slipped the strap of the satchel over his neck and secured it tightly near the base of his back to free up his hands. He hauled himself up onto the nearest window sill, and continued climbing upward until he landed on the roof of the building with the grace of a jungle cat. Tarn would take the alley, and Vos would follow above. His heart raced in his chest with every step across the roof as he silently trailed his master, the terror of being caught disobeying orders coloring every moment.

But he had to know.

Vos had to know what was so captivating about that wretched doctor.

He crossed the roof, low to the tiles and out of view from the streets below. Vos listened for any sign that Master Tarn had caught his little prize.

The scream of “Ta—” with the second half of the Master’s name disappearing into a muffled yelp was a fairly good cue.

Vos leapt across to the adjoining roof of the next building, and slid down to the edge. He laid flat on his stomach, and peered over the edge. Across the way, Tarn had Pharma pressed flat against the shop wall. He’d dragged the doctor to the back end of the alley, and they were covered completely by shadow, hidden from the street lights. Tarn’s hand covered the shivering Doctor’s mouth.

"Now, now, no need spilling secrets because you’re a little surprised," Tarn said, whispering. He dropped his hand, and instead pressed it into the side of the doctor’s face. "You should know better."

"I wasn’t planning on it," Pharma hissed quietly, his hair sticking up like a ruffled cat. He shoved at Tarn’s hand. "You’re the one grabbing people off the street. What did you think I was going to do?"

"I didn’t grab ‘people’, dear doctor," Tarn laughed, pinching Pharma’s cheek. "I grabbed you."

"So I noticed," Pharma said.

"Now what has you out so late at night?" Tarn asked. He lightly pat Pharma’s cheek, and tugged on his hair. "What if it hadn’t been me sneaking in the alleys?"

"Then I’d already be in my carriage by now," Pharma said. He tried to sneak under Tarn’s arm, but was grabbed and slammed up against the wall again. Pharma pouted, visible even in the dark. "You’re the only one who’d care I was out."

"Hmm, we might have to do something about your lack of self preservation," Tarn said. He grabbed both of Pharma’s arms and lifted him off the ground, back against the gritty wall. Vos’ fingers curled around the side of the roof. Tarn leaned in, his mask an inch from Pharma’s face. "Though, you’ve still yet to tell me what you were doing out so late and alone."

"None of your business," Pharma answered. He pulled his face away from the mask, pressing his cheek against the wall to get as far away as possible. "Now put me down."

"I think it is my business," Tarn answered, a bit of warning sneaking into his voice. "I like to keep track of what’s mine."

"I’m not yours," Pharma said back, snapping his head back around to glare eye to eye. He spit at the mask, and Vos jerked up an inch to look closer. Tarn didn’t move, and Pharma’s breath increased. It was loud and heavy, clear as day to servant watching on the roof. Pharma’s voice trembled as he repeated, "I d-don’t belong to you."

Tarn grabbed Pharma by the front of his shirt and jacket, twisting the mass of fabric hard enough that he held the doctor up by it alone. He pressed Pharma further into the wall, as he touched the bottom of his mask with his finger and thumb. Tarn tilted it up, revealing his scarred face. The smooth sections shined even in the dark, and Vos sucked in a breath. He sat farther and father up as he tried to get a better view.

"Must we go through this every time, Pharma?" Tarn sighed. The doctor’s breath hitched, and his feet scraped against the wall as he started to struggle. Vos heard flesh meet flesh as the doctor struck out, only able to strike Tarn’s arm. The master laughed, and shook his head. "I suppose so."

Tarn kissed Pharma, hard and open mouthed. The doctor’s pleas were lost in the wet smacking of lips and Tarn’s tongue reducing his words to grunts and whimpers. Tarn continued his assault, as he adjusted his hold to wrap Pharma’s legs around his waist. The master pushed himself flush against the doctor, close enough that Tarn’s coat lapels brushed the wall and engulfing the smaller man.

Vos shivered.

The tile rattled beneath him, and he threw himself back to the other side of the roof’s slope. He pressed his back flat against the tile and covered his mouth. Vos’ back arched as it tried to work around the tool satchel and he listened as Pharma questioned the noise.

"Just a cat," Tarn muttered around another wet noise. "Stop squirming already, I can’t get your belt that way."

Vos waited for the sound of rustling clothes and meeting flesh to increase before he slipped down the roof toward the gutter. He shook as he crossed to the next building heading toward the waiting Tesarus and Helex. Vos covered his mouth, replaying the sounds of Tarn and his doctor over and over in his head.

Vos was one cat who was in trouble tomorrow when Tarn came home.

There was no way his master didn’t notice his servant spying on him. Tarn had to have noticed. Master Tarn was one of the only people who could sense Vos if he really wanted to. And tonight Vos had been sloppy. Even Tesarus and Helex would have done a better job hiding. Vos would be punished for sure. Disobeying a direct order.

It was _shameful_.

Vos touched his lips, and rubbed his thumb hard into the side. Picturing the way Tarn’s lips had crushed against the doctor’s.

He slid the satchel back down to hang at his side and dropped off the roof to the ground. Vos kissed his fingertips and closed his eyes.

Though, perhaps it might have been worth it.


End file.
